


Wood and Claws

by SquishySterek (Herm_own_ninny)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Constant death, F/M, Gore, Graphic Violence, Isaac is the comedic relief, Kindred Spirits, League of Legends - Freeform, M/M, Murder Husbands, Suicide mention, don't take that statement lightly, it really is murder husbands, rape mention, there's also a little bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 15:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15173591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herm_own_ninny/pseuds/SquishySterek
Summary: “Separate, but never parted, Kindred represents the twin essences of death. Lamb’s bow offers a swift release from the mortal realm for those who accept their fate. Wolf hunts down those who run from their end, delivering violent finality within his crushing jaws. Though interpretations of Kindred’s nature vary... every mortal must choose the true face of their death.“Kindred is the white embrace of nothingness and the gnashing of teeth in the dark. Shepherd and the butcher, poet and primitive, they are one and both. When caught on the edge of life, louder than any trumpeting horn, it is the hammering pulse at one’s throat that calls Kindred to their hunt. Stand and greet Lamb’s bow and her arrows will lay you down swiftly. If you refuse her, Wolf will join you for his merry hunt, where every chase runs to its brutal end.”Participation piece for the Sterek RB 2018





	Wood and Claws

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Firebull](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firebull/gifts).



> I had such a great time writing for my lovely creator, Fire! Go check out the [glorious gifset](https://originfire.tumblr.com/post/175565437613/my-third-art-piece-for-sterekreversebang-2018) that inspired this work of fiction.  
> And if you are like me, check out [these](https://universe.leagueoflegends.com/en_US/story/champion/kindred/) [sources](https://universe.leagueoflegends.com/en_US/story/kindred-color-story/) to learn more about Kindred before giving this piece a read. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This piece is a genuine murder piece. Take my warning of Graphic Violence seriously! I don't want anyone who may have an issue with that to be triggered in any way. Please, always stay safe and don't read something that will affect you negatively.  
> As I've a friend who is this way, all deaths will be listed in the end notes for anyone who needs to check the death list.

“You're my two halves. I'm centuries old. I'm tired,” Peter murmured, sitting on the coffee table in front of Derek and Stiles, sighing softly.  
“What's that supposed to mean?” Stiles glanced at Derek before sitting up, rubbing his hands over his face and yawning.  
“Why do you think I never really die, Stiles?” Peter chuckled, looking expectantly at Derek until he sat up. The older wolf set a mask down on the table beside him, two strikingly different faces carved into the wood.  
“Because you… have some kind of Not-A-Deathwish. Such a strong will for living that you'll never die. I don't know,” Stiles huffed, humming happily as Derek wrapped his arms around his shoulders.  
“I am death, Stiles,” Peter smirked, leaning forward to rest his elbows against his knees as the two men before him frowned and looked at each other as if for confirmation they'd heard the same thing. “I am death, and I'm tired of being death. I have decided to bestow my powers upon the two of you. My two halves will be split into the both of you.”  
“Your two halves?”  
“The different deaths. A quick, seamless passage, and a fight to the grim death that few actually survive.”  
“Oh, so like… dying on a breath, and then dying while being attacked or fighting a disease?” Stiles asked quietly, wrapping his fingers around Derek’s thigh and trying to ground himself.  
“Yes. Derek was set to inherit this from me, but he found his mate, his other half, which means the power will be divided between the two of you. He won't have to struggle to find the balance between the two as I did,” Peter chuckled, holding out his hands. “Now, please, give me your hands and let me end this life. It's been long, and I'm extremely tired.”  
“Wait! We have questions,” Stiles said quickly, snatching Derek’s hand back. “Will this be a King Midas thing?”  
“No, you dimwit. I've touched many people without killing them,” Peter huffed, rolling his eyes.  
“Hey, shut the fuck up. I just found out you're Death, and we're about to be. I'm allowed stupid questions, my brain is working overtime.”  
“Whatever. Are there any other questions?”  
“Do we have to wear the mask?” Stiles grimaced, poking it before shuddering overdramatically.  
Peter rolled his eyes. “No.”  
“Does someone have to be at their death to kill them?”  
“You can fulfill your agenda, but you have to set out with the intent to kill someone so the chance of death is already hovering around as a possibility before you can kill them,” Peter smirked, leaning forward slightly. “You two must have quite the list.”  
Stiles’ face went hard as Derek narrowed his eyes. “You have no clue.”  
“Which is why I have no fear leaving my powers with the two of you. You will make sure Death still reigns.”  
“Are there more like us? For different areas? Or will we forever be consumed with deaths of the billions of people on our planet?” Stiles grimaced, leaning back a bit against Derek.  
“There are more, but you don't really interact. You're only ever assigned to one soul, there isn't an overlap, at least in my time. The deaths I deal with have only ever been local to me. Sometimes I'm teleported, but very rarely, and always back when I'm finished. The only time I've ever seen many of us together was the gulf war and the towers collapsing. It was hideous.”  
“So, wait, was your coma… fake?”  
“It was very real. I was fighting myself. That's why I was gone for so long, and when I came back I was so feral. I had lost what made me human and grounded me, I had torn off my identity to fight inside myself to free my outer self. I hadn't found my inheritors, yet. I couldn't let whoever it was come into this blindly.”  
Stiles nodded, sharing a look with Derek before they both held out their hands. “Let's do this.”  
Peter looked at them both to confirm before snapping the mask in two, then linking their hands. It felt both instantaneous and like an eternity as they watched Peter's eyes open, one green and the other yellow. His body seemed to split in two, a sound like fabric ripping splitting the silence in the room, his howl of pain dulled behind the splintering of his soul. Where their hands were joined, each half split into each man before Peter, the white of the lamb galloping down Stiles’ arm before diving in at his chest.  
Stiles threw his head back, his jaw dropping as the power coursed through his body, his scream barely audible over the pounding in his ears, the lamb stitching itself down to every part of his being, forcing itself to blend with his soul, the two merging to become one.  
The wolf crept down Derek’s arm before burrowing in at his shoulder, clawing its way to his heart. It snarled and forced itself in against Derek’s soul, the man howling with the excruciating pain. Parts of his soul devoured by the ravenous creature, growling as it made itself at home before sharing a look with the lamb.  
When the two men could finally focus their eyes, Peter’s body was turning to mist before them before being flung towards the open window and up to the sky, a triumphant howl ringing in the men’s ears as they sat in awe at what had just happened.  
Isaac peeked downstairs, his hair ruffled and eyes bleary, the sounds having woken him up. “Could the three of you shut the fuck up? I'm trying to sleep, godammit. Why couldn't he wait until the fucking morning to do this?”  
“You knew?” Stiles asked, shaking himself from his reverie to look at his friend at the top of the stairs.  
“Yeah. He killed my dad and let you blame it on the kanima. I saw it, and I wouldn't leave him alone ‘til he told me. Are you going to try and kill me? I know I'm a dick, but, honestly, you two aren't angels yourselves, and-”  
“Go back to bed,” Derek scoffed, shaking his head and trying to hide a fond smile.  
“But are you gonna kill me? I have to delete my search history if you do, so I'd like a little warning.”  
“No, dumbass. We like you,” Stiles laughed, leaning against Derek. His chest swelled with a new feeling, the lamb content in the presence of its wolf.  
“Oh, damn. I was kinda hoping I'd have something to do for the foreseeable future,” Isaac muttered, sounding genuinely disappointed, Derek and Stiles both rolling their eyes.  
“You could clean your mess in the kitchen!” Derek called after him, a sardonic laugh his only response before Isaac slammed his door shut.

 

 

  
 

* * *

 

 

“We have our list. Death can strike at any moment,” Stiles smirked, sidling up in front of Derek and grabbing his hips, eyes gleaming.  
“I'm going to get all of the fun, though. Everyone is going to fight it,” Derek murmured, bending down the little distance to kiss Stiles.  
“You never know. Hopefully I'll get a few quick offs before you take over with the bloodbath,” Stiles smirked, kissing Derek softly before stepping backwards, grabbing his bow and running his fingers over the taut wood and string, sighing happily.  
“Let's get going. I'm itching to sink my claws in. Scott's going to fight it. I can't wait to rip his heart out.”  
“You're going to go old school gore for me?” Stiles cooed, pretending to swoon as Derek grinned deviously, grabbing his half of the mask and slipping it on.  
“Hey, wait, Peter said we can don't have to wear those things, so I want the masks gone,” Stiles murmured, sliding it off of Derek before setting it on their coffee table. “I want to see your eyes turn red when you rip that power out of him.”  
“Do you think that will happen, now that we're death?”  
“Honestly? I don't care. I just want it to be you, and not something you've created,” Stiles murmured, kissing Derek's cheek as he set his own half of the splintered mask on the table.  
“Do you think we'll ever see Peter again?”  
“Maybe when we pass our powers on,” Derek murmured, combing his fingers through Stiles’ hair as his other half leaned against him. “I know you had a soft spot for the asshole.”  
“What can I say? He had a good sense of humor and a nice butt,” Stiles teased, ducking away from Derek’s attempt at flicking his forehead and heading to the door. “Come on, babe. We have a traitor to demolish. Maybe he'll be with Deaton and we can knock out two birds with one stone.”  
Derek happily growled his agreement, following Stiles closely after flicking his claws out.  
“Maybe Deaton will surrender to you. I know he did you worse than me after the Nogitsune.”  
Stiles huffed, scowling at the ground before walking towards vet clinic.  
“Just reminding you why he needs to go. We're not even going to touch on the fact that I lost my alpha powers when Cora magically fell ill, and then Scott became a thing of legend.”  
“Hopefully he'll run so you can have your go at him.”  
“He opened you up to a possession. If I went after him, I'd be doing it on your behalf,” Derek muttered, his eyes flashing a bright white as his anger rose to the surface, but he somehow knew that wasn't the reason when Stiles’ eyes mirrored his own.. He paused and looked around, Stiles’ own fingers thrumming around his grip on his bow. “Someone is dying.”  
“Let's go,” Derek murmured, pulling his other half into the trees, the scent of blood luring him to a misshapen body.  
“What happened, young one?” Stiles asked quietly, kneeling by the boy. He could only make a gurgling noise in response, his eyes going wide with fear at the sight of the two beings. It was then they both noticed a stake piercing through his chest cavity, and Stiles sighed. “Do you wish to fight your death?”  
The kid made another choking noise and turned to spit up more blood before responding. “No, take me. I can't recover from this.”  
“You could, but it would be an entirely uphill battle Wolf would fight against. Are you sure this is what you want?”  
“Yes.”  
Stiles nodded and stood, taking a step back before loading a smooth strip of wood into his bow and firing it into the boy’s chest. The lamb was in charge at this point, the knocking of the arrow causing it to rise to the surface and guide Stiles’ hand, watching the projectile as it dissolved instantly, showing no outward change.  
But Stiles could see it working through the boy’s body, ripping his soul from every point it was connected before finally rising up and out of his body. His lamb was dancing around the soul, letting the kid pet it before dispersing upwards into their surroundings as Peter had.  
“That was beautiful,” Stiles breathed, blinking in awe at the body of the boy before him.  
“What was?”  
“You didn't see that?” Stiles asked quietly, turning to Derek and frowning. “His soul leaving his body?”  
“No. But you were glowing. Your eyes went to a pale green for a moment, and then you seemed to fizzle a bit.”  
“So you can't see what happens when my death is chosen?” Stiles frowned, standing and slinging the bow around his shoulders. “I wonder if that means I can't see how you take out the others…”  
“I saw you kill him, I just didn't see anything after that,” Derek smiled, looping his arm around Stiles’ shoulders as they started walking again.  
“Hopefully that works for me, too.”  
“I'm sure it will,” Derek grinned, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder before opening the door to the vet office and letting him lead.  
They crossed through the front counter and into the back room, where they were met with two guns at their chest.  
“I told you something is off. Derek made it through the barrier.”  
“How do you know I didn't lift it?” Stiles chuckled, knocking aside the barrel pointed at him before going to pet a dog in a crate. It whined and made to move away before Stiles huffed and set down his bow. He unlocked the cage and the animal hopped into his lap, whining happily and curling up on his legs.  
“Peter passed it to you, didn't he? Lamb and wolf, now two separate beings. Easier to trick into their own demise,” Deaton muttered. He reached for something in his pocket, but Derek was on him in seconds, claws digging in to his chest. Stiles looked up at the squelching noise when Deaton tried to take a breath, his eyes glinting with excitement as bone cracked. Derek finally made it to his trachea, ripping it from his body, his eyes glowing a blinding yellow as Deaton’s body fell lifeless to the floor.  
The wolf growled happily as he stepped over the Darach, though the man would never have admitted to it. He was reaching for Scott when he snarled, his hands going black as he was thrown backwards. Stiles was on his feet in an instant, narrowing his eyes at Scott. “What did you do?”  
“I don't want to die like that,” Scott said quietly, the fear in his eyes causing Stiles’ blood to pump a little louder. He tilted his head to the side, reaching for his bow without breaking eye contact. “Why am I surprised? You always take the easy out. Death should be no different. Why should you suffer through the same ailments you put others through?” Stiles’ voice was dripping with sarcasm as he knocked an arrow, aiming the white-washed wood at his once best friend. He held the lamb at bay, not ready just yet to let her take over.  
“I put no one through anything they didn't deserve,” Scott whispered, his voice shaking as he took in the sight of Stiles aiming a weapon at his heart.  
“Really?” Stiles scoffed, tilting his bow and releasing the tension, the arrow whizzing past Scott and only grazing his shoulder. “Throwing an abuse victim against the wall. Lying about who Derek was and making him a wanted fugitive. Controlling Vernon, Erica, and Allison.” Each statement was an arrow released, flying past Scott and only nicking his skin. “We’re not going to talk about that time you manipulated and used Lydia to get back at me. Or maybe the time you fucking ignored me and used your powers to become the best lacrosse player ever. How you use your hearing to listen to the kids around you on tests and cheated your way into the top tenth of our class. That you eavesdropped on every conversation I had with Dad about Derek and used my fear of him finding out I like him to make me do shit for you-”  
“He did what?” Derek snarled, stalking forward, his eyes glowing an icy blue as his true wolf took over.  
“That's how he forced me into using you as bait for Gerard,” Stiles muttered, setting a hand on Derek’s shoulder to pull his attention back in. “You have to step back so you don't get hurt.”  
“I want to rip his heart out here and now. Not as Death. As me,” Derek snarled, pushing past Stiles. When he grabbed the sad excuse for an alpha this time, his hands didn't turn black and instead sunk into Scott's skin. The wolf in Derek roared at the feeling of an enemy’s blood trickling down his fingers, his claws digging into flesh trying to knit itself back together despite the gross intrusion. Scott just closed his eyes, grimacing in pain as Derek lifted him from the floor by the claws in his chest. A low, pleased growl fell from his lips as the weight grew to be too much and his claws tore through Scott’s flesh, his body falling to the ground with a heavy thud as the alpha screamed in pain.  
Derek bent down again and grabbed the kid’s chin, taking a second to soak in the fear scent the was filling the room. “You kept my mate from me, used his fear to make him help you hurt me, when you knew how I felt all along?” Derek’s voice was barely decipherable, more a growl than anything, but he knew Scott understood him when he closed his eyes, his heartbeat skyrocketing.  
“I-I didn't know he was your mate.”  
“That's all you have to say? That's all you have to defend yourself with?” Derek snarled, slamming Scott back against the wall before lifting him up, this time with his fingers dug in a bit into his upper abdomen, his claws nicking the alpha’s rib cage. “You are a sick fucking excuse for a human being, let alone an alpha. And you are no thing of legend. I'm not an idiot, either. I know you and Deaton scammed to take my spark. Making Cora deathly ill so I had to use my power to save her, and then you magically have a spark after _‘rescuing’_ Deaton,” Derek spat the last two words, the air quotes visible even in the dimly lit room from his tone of voice alone.  
“You deserve to be tortured like I was when you sold me out to Kate, to be held captive and run from everyone you know like you did to Peter, to be abused and then have he one person you thought you could trust slam you against a wall and growl at you, to be unwillingly forced to bite the man who ruined your family, burnt them to the ground. You don't deserve the death Stiles will give you once I'm done with you.”  
“Then don't kill me. Torture me,” Scott panted, letting his head thunk back against the wall.  
“I can't. Stiles’ bow is gleaming. We have to kill you now because you want a swift death. Because you run from your problems with your tail tucked between your legs. Absolutely fucking pitiful,” Derek snarled, pulling his claws from Scott’s chest and watching him slump to the floor.  
Derek curled his lip and wiped the blood on his hands off on Deaton’s shirt, turning to watch Stiles aim his bow. Scott managed to open his eyes to watch, all of the fight gone out of him. “I deserve this,” he whispered hoarsely, perhaps in an effort to make Stiles argue with him and reverse the events already unfolding.  
“You do.” Stiles was stoic, his face even and his jaw set as he released the string, a soft 'fwip’ noise the only thing before Scott choked on his last breath, finally going limp.  
The lamb seemed to resonate with the burning hatred coursing in and around Stiles’ soul to the one before him. It was malformed and dark, twisted and unnatural looking, a reflection of the sins in Scott’s own life. The lamb took glee in running from Scott before letting their figures tumble together. His soul finally gaining its freedom from mortality, Stiles watched with a bit of interest as it was sucked downwards, breaking apart into wisps. The lamb seemed to smile with sharpened, bloody teeth at the spot where Scott’s soul had dispersed before rejoining Stiles and flinging his attention back to the bloody present.  
Derek let Stiles stand and take in the scene, trying not to be too fond as he watched his mate glow and his eyes turn green before blinking and refocusing back on their world.  
“Let's go.”  
“No, we need to call the police to get here. These animals don't deserve to suffer and starve just because they were under the care of these dickwipes. We'll call in reports of screaming and a gunshot from the front desk phone and then get out. Deal?”  
Derek chuckled softly, pulling Stiles in for a sweet kiss. “That seems doable.”

 

 

  
 

* * *

 

 

“So you fucking thought it was okay to _kill_ Scott? Stiles, what the fuck!” Erica yelled, pacing back and forth in the loft, her hands flying everywhere with the emotions boiling beneath the surface. “He did some shitty things, Stiles, I'll admit, but this is insane! Who the fuck are you to choose who lives and who dies!?”  
“I'm Death.”  
“I'm not fucking around here,” Erica growled, rounding on Stiles and flashing her eyes.  
“Listen to his heartbeat, Erica. He's not lying,” Derek murmured, stepping even with Stiles before his other half repeated it.  
“We are Death.”  
“Are you possessed again?” Boyd frowned, grabbing Erica's arm and pulling her back to stand even with him. Isaac at least looked interested now. He'd taken the news in stride, nodding along before asking if he could still go to brunch with his girlfriend.  
“No. We are death. I'm the swift embrace, and Derek is the fight.”  
“And you killed Scott? And Deaton?” Erica asked, completely baffled, taking Boyd’s hand and holding tight to him.  
“Yes. They both knew they deserved it, if that makes you feel any better,” Derek muttered, bending down to kiss Stiles’ cheek. “Scott’s confession was absolutely beautiful.”  
“You're sick. Both of you. What the fuck. Isaac, how do you still live here?”  
“They only kill the ones who deserve it. I'm okay with it. When Peter had the power, he used it to kill my dad, didn't care that you guys blamed the kanima,” he shrugged, propping his feet back up as he unlocked his phone. This wasn't as entertaining as he'd thought it would be.  
“So, _you two_ are in charge of who gets to live and die?”  
“Not really. I helped a kid who'd been impaled with something earlier this week have a quick and painless death because he asked for it. We offered to let him battle. I would have called the police. A girl who overdosed a day ago asked to fight it when we arrived. She's doing better. I even gave her some tips. An elderly woman actually called me to visit her and asked me to take her in her sleep later that night. She was alone and tired of the struggle. We aren't evil, Erica. We give death to those who've caused enough of it themselves, to those who ask, and allow any to fight it that want to.”  
“What about Deucalion? He held us prisoner and tortured us,” Boyd muttered, wrapping his arms around Erica and pulling her close.  
“What? You can't honestly be-”  
“We're trying to track him down,” Derek smirked, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist. “My genius here almost has him pinpointed. We plan on leaving to get him after we take care of a few more homegrown threats, unless we find him earlier.”  
“You kill him and you have my support.”  
“Boyd, no, you can't be serious,” Erica whispered, turning to look at her boyfriend. “Tell me you aren't being serious.”  
“I am. They are in a position to rid the world of Deucalion, I say do it. He tortured us, removed our humanity. He deserves what's coming.”

 

 

  
 

* * *

 

 

Stiles had been called, strangely enough, to Lydia’s house, to find her mom drunkenly passed out on their couch, a candle lit close to her hand and the edge of a table. He snuffed it out and rolled his eyes as his skin stopped glowing, then decided to head up to Lydia’s room. He knocked on her door, smiling sweetly when she answered.  
“I know you're not drooling over me any more, so what is it you want?” She asked tiredly, rubbing her eyes and pushing a few stray hairs out of her face. It was obvious she'd been sleeping.  
“You know about me and Derek, now, right?”  
“That you're dating, or that you're Death?”  
“The second. I wanted to-”  
“If you're going to kill me, please just get it over with,” she sighed, opening her door up more and flopping back down on her bed. “I don't want to discuss it. I know I fucked with you for years.”  
“I don't- hey. I'm not going to. You never did bodily harm, you never teased me or made fun of me, you just lead me on. Everyone has done that at some point in their life.” Stiles sat beside her on the bed, gingerly reaching to rub her shoulders. “I wanted to let you know you didn't have to worry about it, and then if you'd have any issues with me killing Jackson.”  
“I know what he did to you. He wouldn't ever stop, even when I asked him to. I don't care what you do to him. He acts like he's different now, but he really isn't,” Lydia muttered, closing her eyes and rolling onto her stomach, giving Stiles a silent command to rub her back. He could do that.  
“I also wanted to say, maybe because you might want to hear it, that I forgive you. I don't mean it in a holier than thou way, but I know you've been quiet around me and it takes goading to get you to say something to correct me. Come back, I love your sass and snark. And you are definitely smarter than me in several areas, and I need that. Everyone does, honestly.”  
Lydia stayed quiet for a while, her breathing going so soft that Stiles thought she had fallen asleep. He gently rearranged her on the bed and covered her up, switching off her bedside lamp.  
He was almost to the door when he heard a quiet “Stiles?” and turned to look at Lydia, who had rolled over to face him.  
“My mom is why you're here, right?”  
“Yes.”  
“Will she be there in the morning?”  
“Maybe. She'll be pretty hungover.”  
“So she's alive,” Lydia whispered, closing her eyes and visibly relaxing even in the darkened room.  
“I snuffed out the candle that probably would have been both of your demise.”  
“Thanks.”  
“You're welcome. Get some sleep.”

 

 

  
 

* * *

 

 

“What exactly is going on here?” Derek whispered to Stiles, slotting himself against his mate’s back from where he was peeking through a door. They'd been teleported and were both glowing now.  
“I think the girl is poisoning these men at the table. She's giving a speech. Sh.”  
Derek hummed in quiet intrigue, listening in to the girl as she delivered her monologue.  
“You five, you raped me from a young age.”  
“Now, Vanessa, that's not-”  
“You raped me! You did things to me that should never have been done to a kid!” She interrupted one of the men, rounding on him and pointing her finger at him. “You ruined my life! You fucked me up in unimaginable ways! You destroyed me. Now I'm destroying you.”  
That must be why Stiles and Derek were there, why wolf and lamb were here.  
“And how do you think you're doing that?”  
“I've written each of your wives a note and given them your passwords to Skype, with all of the things you sent back and forth about me.”  
“We can delete that all right now,” One of the men scoffed, moving to reach for his phone before making a quiet gagging noise.  
“Except you won't be able to delete anything in time. You're going to die.”  
Stiles looked over his shoulder at Derek, a small smirk playing his lips. “I like how this girl rolls.”  
“You'll be charged with manslaughter, sent to prison,” One of the men scoffed before pausing to gag as well, his hands reaching to hold his throat.  
Stiles decided to step forward at that moment, his bow thrumming already with the pitiful last wishes of the men in the room to die quickly. The girl stepped back shakily, her eyes wide and fearful as she saw the two glowing men enter the room.  
“Who-What are you? Why are you here?”  
“We are Death,” Stiles explained softly, baring his teeth and smacking one of the men with his bow when he leered at Stiles in a drugged haze.  
“You're going to take me?” She asked breathlessly, relaxing and reaching towards Stiles.  
He frowned, trying to withhold the lamb as it eagerly reached towards the girl.  
“They destroyed me. I have nothing left. I'll go to jail if I live through this,” She whispered, stumbling forward. Stiles caught her and held her up, his heart wrenching in pain. The lamb took notice, weaving itself comfortingly through his soul.  
“You could. We could… Derek could turn you to a wolf and you could come stay with us.”  
“And be haunted by this, have to live with the nightmares of these monsters defiling me night after night? Please, just let me go. I want to.”  
Stiles felt something inside him break, but the lamb took the lead and pulled the reigns into its own control. Stiles merely watched himself set the girl down and knock an arrow, firing it at the girl. Her soul was more malformed than Scott’s had been, but it grew to a soft golden color as the lamb rubbed itself around her legs. She smiled sweetly at it, meeting Stiles’ eyes and mouthing her thanks before being whisked away through the ceiling.  
When he finally came back, Derek was holding him on the ground, quiet sobs wracking through the younger man’s body.  
Derek was trying to sooth him, cradling him to his chest and kissing over Stiles’ face, whispering soft encouragements. They both paused to watch their wolf and lamb press noses together, the two animals looking exhausted.  
The room was bloody, the men at the table missing various internal organs. Stiles vaguely remembers firing his arrows after Derek had shifted back from his wolf, the anger visible in his claws still out and eyes still glowing. They got a quick death, yes, but not an easy one.  
“Please tell me they got sucked down,” Stiles whispered, reaching for Derek’s hand. It was still wet with blood, but Stiles could care less.  
“All of them. You've seen it happen?”  
“With Scott's,” Stiles murmured, closing his eyes as he and Derek leaned into each other. They both felt a soft breeze before reopening their eyes, taking in the familiar surrounding of their apartment. “I need to take a shower for a year.”  
“Let me rinse off, first,” Derek murmured, kissing Stiles’ temple.  
“Our shower is huge. I expect you in there with me.”  
“I know, but I don't want you coming into any more contact with the filthy blood on my body than you have to. Give me five minutes and come join me.”

 

 

  
 

* * *

 

 

“Now, we could start tailing the alpha pack, or take out the Argents. Both of them are close. The Argents are rarely all together like this, so I think we should go with wiping their filth from the Earth, if you're down for it,” Stiles murmured, looking up from his laptop at Derek, who was perched on the armrest of the couch, watching over his shoulder.  
“Taking out all of the Argents at once would be convenient. Is there a reason they're all in town?”  
“It could be they got word of what we are now and want to take us out. Or maybe the old dick bag is finally succumbing to his death,” Stiles muttered, an excited chill running down his spine at the thought. “Killing him would be the biggest turn on in the fucking world…”  
“I feel like I should be a little upset that he could turn you on in any way, but I'm okay with it.” Derek smirked, before glancing back at Stiles’ laptop screen as a chat box popped up.  
_Come and get us, if you can. 4457 Halloran._  
“That sounds like fun,” Stiles murmured, looking up at Derek and smirking. “As long as wolf and lamb are in charge, we can't die?”  
“That's what I'm going to guess,” Stiles grinned, taking the address down on the notes in his phone before shutting down the laptop. He reached for his bow, tilting his head a little when he finally took a moment to look at it when he wasn't using it to kill anyone. It was almost surreal, the soft wood lulling him into a dreamlike trance as he finally stopped to take it all in. The dark wood was curved in two opposing arcs that intersected at the grip, two half moons fused together. The string was so fine that Stiles had to focus for a moment before he could see it, cheating with his knocking point as a point of reference. He could really only see the serving, the thicker string finally casting a glare from the lights in the loft. He could imagine already the shaft of an arrow set and ready to fire, his attention drawn to the sight window, where he saw, for the first time, an engraving in the central part of the wood. His half of the mask, a little lamb’s face. It had its fangs bared, seemingly growling out of the wood, a true mixture of the two elements. Stiles was running his fingers over the carved sigils of each Death to come before them, the first right below the grip the most worn over with time. He was studying the intricate design and snapped from his trance when Derek dropped his keys. He tried not to glare at his mate for the disturbance, instead focusing on the gorgeous curve of his ass as the wolf bent forward to pick them up. Stiles didn’t even blush when Derek turned around and smirked at him, just returned the look with a gleam to his eyes. “I’m learning to appreciate the good things in life.”  
“I’m guessing that’s the name you’ve decided on for my ass?” Derek chuckled, walking over and helping Stiles up. He grabbed his other half’s weapon, frowning as it changed to a black hue before dropping it, hissing in pain. “What the fuck?”  
“She doesn’t like the wolf,” Stiles smirked, picking his bow up and slinging it over his shoulders.  
“She?”  
“It… has a personality. A story. It guides both me and the lamb when we sometimes can’t do it ourselves.”  
Derek nodded slowly, reaching for Stiles’ hand. “As long as she doesn’t keep me from touching you, we’re on good terms.”  
Stiles laughed quietly, squeezing Derek’s hand before dropping it as they descended down the stairs, both of them letting loose a little as they leapt down them, laughing breathlessly when they finally met up at the bottom. Stiles jumped on Derek’s back, pressing his face in the crook of his neck and smiling ridiculously wide. “I can’t believe we finally get to do this,” He murmured, leaning up to teasingly bite at Derek’s earlobe and smiling at the noncommittal growl thrown his way after doing so.  
“I should be concerned that you enjoy this so much, but I can’t say much for myself.”  
“I think the lamb and wolf have helped curb my bloodlust, actually.”  
“Really? The wolf is constantly itching to flick my claws out and take on anyone and everyone.”  
“The lamb is a bit more resigned. She only wants to take those who are wishing for it. Sometimes I feel her comforting the bad parts in me. That girl the other night? She was pushing forward, trying to relieve her. She’s almost… motherly. And so soft. I love her.”  
“Is this a love I should worry about?” Derek teased Stiles softly, finally setting him down outside the passenger door of his car.  
“Maybe,” Stiles winked, opening the door and getting in. “You know I’m bi.”  
Derek rolled his eyes and got in himself, smirking as the idea came to mind. “But you’re not a furry, are you? She’s still a lamb.”  
“I may actually be a furry. You can turn into an actual wolf.”  
Derek groaned quietly, shaking his head. “But you wouldn’t let the wolf fuck you.”  
“That’s beastiality, and a completely different topic. But now that I think about it, you’re actually the furry. You turn into a wolf.”  
“But I don’t have a fursuit.”  
“You didn’t have to _buy_ a fursuit. You come with one already.” Stiles was smirking, leaning his elbow on the center console as he gave Derek a shit-eating grin.  
“It’s not a fucking fursuit. I don’t walk on two legs when I’m the wolf.”  
“Aw! You’re pouting,” Stiles cooed, leaning over the console to kiss Derek’s cheek. “My adorable little furry. What’s your fursona’s name?”  
Derek huffed as he turned on the car, ignoring the question as he loaded his internal GPS, inputting the address. 30 minutes away. With Stiles on a rave about furries and Derek. Wonderful. He was not going to listen in to the small voice in his head that said Stiles did have a bit of a point. It was irrelevant and completely wrong.  
He was actually right in the middle of ignoring said mate when something caught his attention outside the car window. They’d been driving for a good twenty minutes down one of the many dirt roads in the outskirts of Beacon Hills when his wolf started getting restless. Something was watching them, tailing them, and now his wolf was turned on him, ears perked and head cocked to the side. Derek growled quietly and slammed on his breaks, the car screeching to a halt. And then he heard it, a small hissing from the air vents. He unbuckled himself and Stiles, shoving his confused mate from the car with a loud command of “Run!”  
Stiles thankfully took him seriously, sprinting down the road, Derek close behind him. They made it a cool 50 feet, gravel crunching beneath their shoes before they were thrown forward at the intensity of the car’s explosion. He saw the thing on the edges of his vision once more as he was vaulted forward, pushing Stiles towards the edge of the road and onto the soft grass, lessening his pain on impact. Derek lay still for a second before sitting up, groaning quietly at the ache in his bones. He made his way towards Stiles, who had rolled onto his back and shoved his bow to the side, breathing hard. “Baby?”  
“I’m okay, you did good. Just need a moment to breathe,” Stiles whispered, reaching for and then tangling his fingers in the material of Derek’s shirt, pulling him down close and kissing his temple. “Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome,” He murmured, combing his fingers through Stiles’ hair as he tried to take a moment to listen in to their surrounding. His ears were still ringing slightly from the force of the explosion, but he was sure he could hear at least two more sets of heartbeats than there should be out here, and neither quick enough to be an animal’s.  
Stiles opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Derek covered it, glancing down at him with a silent “Don’t speak” as he kept looking around them, trying to focus in on any spot that could hold the owners of the unknown heartbeats. When Stiles made a move to sit up, Derek pressed a firm hand to the center of his chest, looking down at him with the same look as before.  
That’s when he saw it, out of the corner of his eye. Movement. Swift and calculated, footsteps practically silent. Now that Derek knew what to listen for, however, he easily picked out the two beings, forcing himself to hold back a growl. It was Deucalion’s little twins. The two meatheads were probably supposed to have incapacitated Derek and Stiles. They, of course, failed.  
Stiles followed Derek’s gaze and caught the slight shift in shadows, slowly reaching for his bow as his lamb turned her attention to what he was focusing on. She was instantly disinterested, but at the glow forming on Derek’s skin, Stiles knew these enemies would not go down with a fight. It was a good thing Stiles could fight without his bow, but at the lengthening of Derek’s claws, he almost wanted to take a backseat and watch the show. That being said, Derek was wearing one of Stiles’ favorite shirts, and he didn’t want it to get completely ruined. Maybe he could lend a little of his magic for this one, trap the enemy in a circle of mountain ash that adjusted as Derek needed it. That would be fun, but also very unfair and prove for a bit of a lackluster show. Stiles enjoyed angry growls, but more so the uncalculated moves they brought after, being able to watch his mate visualize and fight back before his opponent even knew what they were doing.  
Which is why when the first of the twins broke from the tree line and ran towards them, Stiles only whacked his shins with a stray root he pulled from the ground, biting his lip to hold back laughter when he fell forward. Derek sprung up, his eyes glowing yellow as he pounced on the younger wolf, claws ripping into his chest.  
Stiles almost missed the other one running towards him, so gleefully enraptured in the scene that he barely had the chance to fling gravel in his face as he rolled to the side and sprung to his feet, narrowing his eyes.  
The alpha roared in anger, rounding on Stiles. His eyes were red, seemingly flickering between blue. He chanced a look at Derek again, a strong feeling of pride blooming in his chest as his mate finally got the leverage to snap the twin’s neck.  
Stiles easily ducked beneath the two hands that lunged for him in that moment, pulling a bit of the wind blowing to curl with his punch, sending the twin before him flying. Derek looked up from the body before him, snarling as he lunged at the other twin, taking him out swiftly in the same manner as his brother.  
Stiles watched in awe as his mate’s skin sprung glowing tattoos to life, the intricate patterns woven across his skin almost a blinding white even in the middle of the day. He tried to take it all in, but ended up ducking away, squeezing his eyes shut. He stayed that way until there was a hand on his shoulder.  
“Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, it was just really bright,” Stiles murmured, opening his eyes and blinking as they readjusted. Derek was doing the really cute thing where his expression was soft and he looked at Stiles like he was the whole world. Even with the blood drops scattering his face, a cut healing on his cheek, he looked the most beautiful and pure Stiles could ever remember him looking.  
“I think it's because his spirit was fighting the wolf,” Derek murmured, scowling at his hand when his claws wouldn't go back. “I think the others are close. Unless something happened to you and you're not telling me.”  
“Lamb took my fall. The twin never even touched me. I'm okay. Let's keep walking,” Stiles murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Derek’s cheek before looking at his shirt and huffing. “I shouldn't have let you wear that. It's already torn.”  
“It can be a pyjama shirt, now,” Derek grinned, leaning down to kiss Stiles fully, massaging his neck a bit before they broke apart and started walking again after Stiles grabbed his bow. They were both silent, the only noise the crunching of their shoes on the gravelly road, the leaves rustling, and at one point, a deer that had been at the tree line and took off back into the trees after catching sight of them.  
“I don't think I'll be able to take any of them,” Stiles murmured, the silence too much for him after a while.  
“You helped just now. Was it too much for you?”  
“I was concerned it was too much for you. The possibility of losing me,” Stiles murmured, reaching for Derek’s hand and squeezing it.  
“I believe in you and your ability to keep yourself safe. It wasn't intense enough for me to worry about you somehow sacrificing yourself for me. Do I need to worry about that with Deucalion?”  
“I'm not sure. I trust the wolf to keep you safe, to be the true, feral hunter and take him out, but I'm scared he will get distracted or somehow sacrifice you to take him out.”  
Derek was quiet for a moment, nodding along to what Stiles said. “It's more difficult to trust when it isn't just the two of us any more, isn't it?”  
“It's a bit scarier,” Stiles murmured, shifting his gait so he was a bit closer to Derek as they walked along, dropping his gaze to his shoes, his shoulders hunching a little. “I love the lamb and wolf, and how they've allowed us to change and grow. But I'm scared we may lose ourselves to them one day, wake up and realize we're closer to them than to each other.”  
Derek was quiet for a while before he took Stiles’ hand again, twining their fingers together. “Maybe we should discuss this when we aren't nearing wherever it is they're hiding out?”  
“Sounds like a good deal. We've been followed the past 100 feet or so. The dumbass tailing us keep stepping on twigs.”  
“It's actually been the past mile or so, but recently they've been getting less caring, which is why I think we're close,” Derek murmured, tilting his head a bit and smirking as he heard the heartbeat he'd been monitoring skyrocket.  
“Which one do you think it is?”  
“Well, it can't be Ennis, because we killed him. We killed the two shitheads that blew up the car. Must be the one with the foot fetish, what was her name?”  
Derek was grinning like an idiot in love at Stiles, the wolf circling around him eagerly as the heartbeat rose again, this time most likely in anger.  
“She seems angry. And must have enlisted some help. Two more dumbasses that don't seem to realize brushing against leaves creates an audible sound.”  
Stiles tried to bite back his laughter, pulling them to a stop and leaning up to kiss him. “Only three? I'm a bit offended that he thinks that's all it takes to get rid of us,” Stiles murmured, giggling as he heard a feral-sounding growl from the bushes behind him. He heard a twig snap before a heavy thump, turning to look at the young alpha on the ground before him, a root wrapped around one of his legs. “And a child, nonetheless? He can't be older than 18.”  
“I'm 21, you little shit,” the boy snarled, slashing through the root around his leg before making it to his feet. There was another thump as his partner fell to the ground, Stiles trying not to laugh as the girl let out a quiet scream of surprise. “This is honestly adorable.”  
The boy helped her to her feet, taking a step back as he caught sight of Stiles’ glowing skin. He paused and looked up as Kali stepped forward, the previous glint and life in her eyes replaced by a dull, brown hue. She didn't even flash her eyes red.  
Stiles reached for his bow, surprised to see it glowing so intensely. “You don't want to fight us.”  
“I wanted you to kill me and Deucalion the moment I realized what I'd actually done to Jennifer,” She sighed, standing evenly in front of Stiles. He didn't even hold lamb back, smiling warmly as she wove herself around Kali’s multi-textured soul, weighed down by her immense sense of guilt and self-loathing.  
“You're sure? You don't want to… try again somewhere else?”  
“I don't want to.”  
Stiles nodded and knocked an arrow, the screams and howls of pain from the others making him smile slightly as he released the tension where his fingers had curled around the serving, pausing to watch her soul fight with upwards and downwards, until the lighter sides finally gave in. They were consumed by the dark blackness before dispersing into the ground below. Stiles expected Lamb to rejoin him quickly, but she was baring her fangs at something behind him. He didn't have a chance to turn around, instead watching with great distaste as Deucalion’s body hurdled through his own. He had to giggle slightly as he crashed into the foliage with an angered roar, and Lamb finally curled herself around his legs before rejoining him. She watched, perched on Stiles’ shoulder in what should have been an awkward and uncomfortable way. He instead leaned to kiss her cheek before pulling two roots from the ground and holding Deucalion down before looking at Derek, who was finally finishing with the two kids. They weren't even recognizable, missing parts of their bodies and faces. Derek, himself, was a bit unrecognizable, blood coating his face and most of his body.  
The look he threw at Deucalion, claws knuckle deep in the deceased boy’s chest, was feral and more animalistic than Stiles had ever seen him. Stiles stepped back as Derek pounced on the man, claws shredding his flesh, and blood actually spewing everywhere with the intensity at which Derek was ripping him open. Stiles cringed when Derek was thrown away from his body, his arms turning black as he was slammed into a trunk. His eyes faded from yellow to red as he got back up and walked over, but Stiles set a hand to his chest, stopping his movement. “I think he got your message. Let me do this.”  
Derek stayed staring at the man's limp body, his shoulders still tense.  
“You took his pack from him, his lifeline. You tore him to pieces. He knows he's defeated, Derek. I'll take care of him.”  
“I want to watch his soul get swallowed by the ground.”  
“His soul is going to disperse, and neither of us can change that,” Stiles murmured, knocking an arrow as the wood started thrumming with the blood rushing through his veins. He would get to see Deucalion destroyed. Lamb was comforting her wolf, weaving between his legs as she waited for the soft 'fwip’ of Stiles’ arrow through the air before it pierced Deucalion in the heart, and then dispersed into the air. She trodded over and nipped at the legs of the soul, who merely reached down and pet her before crumbling to black before being absorbed into the ground. When Stiles finally came to, Derek was pacing back and forth, his anger evident.  
“You wanted to kill him.” It was a statement, no questioning or fear. It was obvious.  
“And I nearly did, if he hadn't changed his mind and taken the weak way out at the end,” Derek growled, turning his anger even on Stiles when his mate stopped him. At a bitch face, the wolf huffed and looked away, his shoulders hunching.  
“You know what? We just have to let that go. He changed his mind. But, he's dead,” Stiles murmured, reaching to grab Derek’s shirt in his fist and pull him close. “He's dead.”  
Derek met Stiles’ gaze before growling softly, leaning down and pulling their bodies flush together for a kiss. Stiles kissed him back for a second before grimacing and pulling back. “You need to wash off if you want to kiss me.”  
Derek huffed in slight annoyance before nipping Stiles’ lower lip. “There's some running water near here.  
Stiles smirked and stepped back, slinging his bow over his shoulders. “Lead the way, honey.”  
Derek chuckled and grabbed Stiles’ hand, leading him to the forest. The silence that fell over them this time was completely free of the negative energy from before, the only sounds breaking through the trees the snapping of twigs and crunching of rocks. The gentle crackle of leaves was lulling them into a comfortable, easy mood, linking their fingers together. Once Stiles could hear the water, he let out a small happy noise, moving around Derek before he took off in a sprint, laughing gleefully as the wolf caught up to him and pushed him into the water, arms wrapping around his waist.  
They resurfaced together and Derek leaned forward to kiss Stiles before hissing and reeling back in pain, glaring at the bow around Stiles’ shoulder. He laughed quietly and took it off, tossing it to the shore before squealing as Derek wrapped him back up in his arms. They went back under the water again, Derek nuzzling against Stiles’ neck before pushing them back to the surface, humming happily.  
“You're awfully cuddly right now,” Stiles murmured, closing his eyes as Derek kissed over his neck, humming happily as he sucked a faint mark into his skin.  
“Because we just took out someone who terrorized our pack, who caused immense damage. I have you alone in a beautiful part of the woods, and you look absolutely gorgeous right now.”  
“While I'm living for this moment, you know we have a dinner tonight.” Stiles laughed quietly at Derek's quiet growl of discontent as he scraped his teeth over his mate’s neck and started moving them back towards the shore.  
“My poor little Wolfie,” Stiles cooed, laughing as Derek growled at him, very visibly pouting.  
“Why did we agree to a dinner with Isaac, again?”  
“Because it's his birthday!” Stiles laughed, walking out of the water before squeezing his shirt of excess water. Derek nuzzled against his shoulder before doing the same to his own shirt.  
“We got him a gift, right?”  
“Yes, _I_ got him a gift,” Stiles smirked, leading Derek into the treeline back towards the road.

Dinner that night was pretty uneventful, Isaac grinning as he got his present - a knitted turtleneck. He high-fived Stiles when he finally told the table they’d taken out the alpha pack earlier that day, Boyd clapping Derek’s shoulder and grinning wide. Erica was a bit more resigned in her support, smiling small at Stiles and leaning into Boyd.

 

 

  
 

* * *

 

 

Stiles sat up in the bed, gasping for air, his fingers digging into the sheets beside him. His arms were glowing, he could see the reflection of his eyes in the mirror in their room. He shook Derek, but his mate wouldn’t move. His veins were running black, and Stiles started screaming. He kept shaking Derek’s body, screaming his name, willing him to wake up.  
He could taste the wolfsbane in the air, the scent burning his nose and throat, the tears from his eyes a mixture of repellant and pain.  
He could hear someone yelling his name, but he was so enraptured in Derek’s unmoving body, screaming for him to-  
“WAKE UP!” Stiles heard himself screaming when he finally opened his eyes. Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Derek were surrounding him, Derek on the verge of tears.  
“W-Whats’s- you’re crying,” Stiles whispered, grabbing Derek’s shoulder and pulling him in for a hug, his heart wrenching with pain at the broken whine that fell from his mate’s lips.  
“You were screaming, you kept yelling his name,” Isaac mumbled, concern riddling his features as he sat on the bed by Stiles. “You scared us. Your skin was bright white, like a blinding light, and you sounded so… broken.”  
“We need to check the house, now. Are any of you having trouble breathing?” Stiles asked suddenly, standing to his feet and holding Derek’s head so he wasn’t flung backwards and to the floor.  
“A little, but it isn’t bad. Why?” Erica asked quietly.  
Stiles tried to hold himself tall as a panicked shiver ran down his spine. The dream had to have some truth, right? Was Lamb trying to- Stiles caught sight of her, weaving through her wolf’s legs, her body language exuding stress and discomfort. Something was definitely wrong.  
“She’s upset, isn’t she?” Derek whispered, and Stiles nodded, his hands starting to shake as his breathing sped up.  
“I don’t think it was a dream. Each of you grab one of the plants in the kitchen when we head out. It was wolfsbane in… whatever I just saw. I can exert the plants to drown it out, but we need to be quick. It’s probably another fire, there was smoke-” Stiles cut off as his breathing went ragged, his chest even shaking with the fear wracking through his body. Derek got to his feet and pulled Stiles in, rooting him to the spot. The emissary made a soft noise before pulling back, trying to take a steadying breath as he grabbed his keys and phone with shaky hands.  
“We don’t-I can’t-Let’s-We need to go,” He mumbled, grabbing his bow and looking to his packmates. “Grab your things quickly, meet me at the top of the stairs. We stick together. You need to separate, you don’t. We all go together, or we don’t go at all. Understood?”  
The wolves nodded before splitting off, jogging down the hall to their respective rooms. Stiles waited for Derek to grab his own wallet and phone and a small box from his nightstand before they went to wait at the stairs. Once the others joined them, changed from pyjamas and with their means of communication, Stiles lead them down to the kitchen.  
All four of their eyes were glowing with their wolf, their breathing a bit heavy. The wolfsbane was already set in motion. “Grab two plants, each.”  
They complied, following Stiles to the stairway. He was hit with the stench of the wolfsbane, his pack all coughing heavily and doubling over. Stiles’ eyes glowed a soft blue as he pulled the energy from the plants, forcing them to produce oxygen for the wolves. He pulled the plants to their faces before guiding them to the stairs, following behind them after telling Derek to take them to the side door. The lamb was weaving around Stiles’ legs worriedly, her fangs bared at the nothing that was attacking her mate and those her host cared for. As Stiles walked down the stairs, he sent a text to Lydia, warning her that the Argents were at work at revenge and to stay safe. He shut off his phone and grimaced when he could feel the last bit of life leave Isaac’s plant. He put his hand in the soil, urging the nutrients towards the plant, killing off its roots in the last ditch effort to bring in nutrients to bring oxygen to his friend. It worked, barely, but they made it through the door to see the Argents surrounding the building, weapons trained on their exit.  
Stiles decided now was the best time to let loose, his eyes bursting with blue light as roots tore through the concrete, grabbing and destroying wolfsbane bullet weapons, pulling the various packets of the burning herb into the soil. The air was clearing and Derek and Stiles were both glowing. Stiles was alight with anger, taking in the faces around him. Some were already running, cars peeling off in the night. Gerard was at the forefront, staring them down with his cool, unmoving expression. His calmness was given away by his fingers twitching by his knife, his shoulders tense as he realized just what he was up against. Derek was close to regaining his breath, so Stiles decided he could have some fun. Why not. Let his mate save himself for the slaughtering that would come.  
He’d be lying if he said he was not inspired by the Guardians of the Galaxy movie as he harnessed the roots again, driving the ends through chest after chest, effectively skewering the human filth littering their parking lot. He curved the Argent Family Kebobs so one of the bloody ends wrapped around Gerard’s neck, the other weaving between his legs upwards to hold his waist.  
Stiles was prepared, a knife already in hand, but Derek set a hand on his shoulder. Isaac, Erica and Boyd’s eyes were glowing, their claws out and teeth bared, animalistic growls tearing through the heavy silence that had settled into the dark night. Blood was trailing down Gerard’s body, an unsteady rhythm played by the droplets falling from the impaled bodies surrounding him as the wolves stalked forward. Their claws ripping into flesh were soft undertones to the high soprano resonance of Gerard’s screams, their quiet growls a perfected bass complement in the dead of the night.  
When his life was finally drawn from him by Derek’s claws cracking his skull and demolishing his brain within, Stiles let the roots fall to the floor and release Gerard. What was left of his body fell backwards onto the ground, the soft suction noises of the roots withdrawing from his accomplices’ bodies the only noise accompanying their heavy breathing as the five pack members took in the bloody scene they would now be tasked with cleaning in the pitch black of the night.

 

 

  
 

* * *

 

 

The bloody scene of Gerard’s death that kept playing over in his mind made stabbing Jackson with a shattered lacrosse stick underwhelming, even the fear in his eyes pulling a muted reaction from the couple as Derek snapped two necks and Stiles sent three arrows flying. He didn’t even wait to see what happened with their souls, just went to sit on the bleachers with Derek while their counterparts took care of it.  
They leaned against each other, fighting yawns from all of the work they had put in last night to rid their home of the filth that the Argents had imposed on them. Power washing the concrete outside their building at 4 in the morning had been the most trying, as Isaac, Erica, and Boyd had retreated upstairs, yawning and mumbling about work. Derek and Stiles took over after that, Derek cleansing the concrete as Stiles tried to smooth it back down, shifting the earth beneath to accomplish that. They agreed they’d call a concrete company soon to fix it properly, but after the Argents were dealt with.  
Stiles clenched his jaw as he thought of the weak little shits who'd run the second they saw Stiles and Derek glowing.  
He was genuinely fighting back sleep, waiting for Derek to get back with the groceries. The sound of their bedroom door opening had him sighing in relief as he rolled over to welcome his mate home with a yawn and grabby hands. Derek chuckled and took off his jeans before joining Stiles in the bed, nuzzling against his neck and letting out a happy rumble.  
“No issues getting the food?” Stiles asked quietly, already sinking into the comfort of his mate’s arms, eyes fluttering shut as he was scented.  
“There weren't any of the pull apart Twizzler ropes so I had to get you regular ones.”  
Stiles groaned quietly but quickly quieted down as Derek moved them so he was spooning the younger man. “I guess they will suffice until I can procure some of the proper edible snacks.”  
“What the fuck just came out of your mouth?” Derek snickered, kissing Stiles’ shoulder as he settled in with an arm draped over his waist.  
“I'm tired. I'm stupider than normal when I'm sleepy.”  
“You also start whining like a toddler.”  
“Shut the fuck up,” Stiles grumbled, wiggling so he was flush against Derek before sighing happily and burying his face in his pillow. “Fuckin’, furry ass motherfucker,” He mumbled, the sound muffled by the fabric in his face.  
“I should push you on the floor, right now,” Derek growled half-assedly, nipping at Stiles’ ear before rubbing his beard stubble over his mate’s neck and smirking at the breathless giggle sound he made as he tried to scoot away.  
Derek grinned and followed him, repeating the action and laughing at Stiles half-whine-half-giggle in response. “Stop! Babe, please!”  
Derek simply continued to smile, pulling Stiles tight against his body before blowing a raspberry against his neck, growling softly as Stiles squealed.  
“If you don't stop, I'm sleeping with Isaac.”  
“He'd kick you on the floor,” Derek grumbled, tightening his grip again and pulling Stiles close, pressing his face against his shoulder and huffing.  
“But it still made you stop,” Stiles smirked, whimpering softly as Derek scraped fanged teeth over his shoulder and growled quietly.  
“Not really. Now I'm upset.”  
Stiles rolled over in Derek’s arms, trying to hide a smirk. “Did I make my poor alpha jealous?” He cooed, stroking his fingers over Derek’s cheek. He didn't flinch when red eyes were flashed at him, just smirked happily and kissed his mate’s nose. “My cute little alpha.”  
Derek bared his fangs at Stiles before huffing and kissing him softly. “I hate you.”  
“Good, I hate me, too,” Stiles mumbled, nudging their noses together in an Eskimo kiss before reconnecting their lips, combing his fingers through Derek's hair. When they broke apart, the wolf nuzzled against Stiles’ throat, rumbling quietly. “You better not have been serious about hating yourself.”  
“I'm just quoting our first meeting,” Stiles mumbled, closing his eyes and sighing happily at the touches, relaxing into their bed. “Can we sleep, now?”  
Derek smiled, kissing Stiles’ neck before replying. “I thought you'd never ask.”

 

 

  
 

* * *

 

 

Stiles was throwing caution to the wind. He had no fucks to give. Chris and Allison were as good as dead. He'd seen them. And on top of it, they were idiotic enough to reconvene at their house. Where Stiles and Derek knew they were.  
Maybe if he'd had the time to stop and think, Stiles may have paused to consider that the two level-headed(ish) Argents did that as a peace offering, a recognition of their guilt, but that was currently the farthest thing from Stiles’ mind. He was busting through the door, cracking the foundation and any belief they had that the house would be protected via mountain ash as Derek bounded in, his beta form snarling with red eyes. Two of them dead instantly, the sound of flesh ripping and screams choking and gargling on blood alerting the others within the house. Within moments they were being charged, but Derek was flying around the room, the two animals within his body taking over. He was striking with ferocity Stiles had never seen, and he nearly missed Chris and Allison trying to sneak out. He knocked an arrow and pointed it at the two of them, baring his teeth in an animalistic way. They froze on the spot, Chris stepping a bit in front of Allison. “My arrow can pierce the both of you at once. Move away from the door and further inside. I just might have Derek take control and kill them a bit swifter.”  
Chris grabbed Allison’s wrist and pulled her to stand in front of Stiles. He lowered his bow and looked at the two of them, curling his lip in disgust. “Still no fighting even towards the end?”  
The older hunter lowered his gaze, his shoulders hunching, yet he still moved so he was slightly in front of his daughter.  
It proved fruitless, however, as Stiles started circling them, his bow still loaded but not aimed at them-yet.  
“Ever lenient, quiet, stoic- it's all a ruse, isn't it? You're spineless, Chris. You fluff yourself up with these weapons and knowledge and big words, even your beard. But they do nothing to hide who you truly are: a coward.  
“You were lazy and gutless to leave me at Gerard's hand when he not only kidnapped two of my pack members, but kidnapped and tortured me.”  
“You're the weak one,” Allison scoffed, shying into Chris when a high pitched scream was cut short by the crunching of a bone, most likely a skull. There was even a glorious spray of blood that Stiles let himself appreciate, Derek’s arms bloodred up to his elbow as he ripped out a trachea and sent her insides flying across two others trying to load rifles.  
“I'm the weak one?” Stiles finally turned back to her, tilting his head to the side a bit and smiling with mirth.  
“You consider torture a punch to the face?”  
“I consider torture, you incessant dickwipe,” Stiles muttered, tilting her chin up with the tip of his weapon, “the use of harm being threatened to ones you care about. Being physically harmed. Your family being threatened if you do not give up information. Torture, my love,” he spat the word, yanking his bow back and smirking ruthlessly when she flinched away, “is anything used to scare others into submission.”  
“Then how are you any better doing this to us?” Chris’ voice shook slightly, but he managed to hold his body solid, which was a wonderful sight.  
Stiles was about to respond, he honestly was, but an intestine - most likely a stomach or spleen - was launched across the room and hit Chris across the face. It fell to it's final resting place on Allison’s shoes, and the scream she let out almost threw Stiles off. It was so full of anger and fear, so twisted between the two warring emotions, her expression a wonderful complement, that he nearly let her stab him just for fun.  
Nearly.  
He caught her wrist and squeezed hard enough she cried out in pain and the knife clattered to the floor, screaming and flinching backwards as she was sprayed with blood and a little bit of flesh as Derek turned and snarled at her. Chris grabbed her elbow and pulled her back against him, glaring at the two of them, who merely laughed quietly, gave the other a quick kiss, before resuming their earlier activities. Stiles set one hand on his hip, the other curling his bow into the crook of his arm as he surveyed the two people before him.  
The two _shells_ of people, more accurately. Both of them were starting to wear thin, their cheekbones prominent in an unhealthy manner, the concealer useless once Stiles was able to compare the bags under Chris’ eyes to those under Allison’s. He almost wanted to take pity on them, but was reminded that a swift death was all the pity they would be receiving.  
“You attacked my pack, my ex best friend, you used him and lead him along as if he were on a leash. You let him control you because you knew it would make him weak to you, and you manipulated him into working towards your every whim. You were 18 when he was 16 and lost his virginity, but I didn't tell mention to my dad this thing called 'statutory rape’ because Scott begged me not to. He was so head over heels for you, but you never felt a thing. You even dated Isaac, used another person, to get back at him and hurt him. Am I right?” Stiles knew his eyes were glowing, could feel it in the way Allison was cringing into Chris, the two of them looking away and trying to shield their eyes. “ **Answer me!** ”  
“I never had feelings for him. Kate told me to,” She whispered, her fingers tangling into the fabric of her father’s shirt as she clung to him for dear life. It was finally sinking in. Too bad it had to be at the end of her life.  
“And do you know what that means, Chris?”  
The older man cringed as Stiles hissed his name, opting for silence as he cradled Allison to his chest. He didn't even flinch this time when a stray arm smacked against his back before falling to his feet, merely tightened his grip on Allison so she wouldn't look. “That means every time you stayed quiet, stayed in your place, didn't speak out or investigate what was happening, you aided in these efforts. You knew Gerard had me, you didn't stop him torturing me. You knew Kate was messing with Allison, yet you let them hang out and ruin someone that I had been close with. You let your wife torture and try to kill my pack members, even my mate, because you didn't have the fucking balls to stand up and take control of the insanity around you. If anything, you are the worst villain here. You let it happen. You sat idly by as people tortured and ruined innocent lives,” Stiles had dropped his voice to a whisper as he lifted his bow and aimed it at Allison, the Lamb weaving excitedly between his legs as she watched, “took them in the blink of an eye,” he murmured, letting go of the tension on his string and watching as Lamb leapt along with it's release, seemingly attacking Allison’s soul. She ripped it from her body before running from it, Stiles watching gleefully as she made the girl work for it. When she finally made contact, her aura almost immediately shifted black and was sucked into the ground before Stiles was thrown back to the present, Chris clutching the lifeless body of his daughter. “Just like that.”  
The man’s eyes were duller than Stiles had ever seen them, he looked so old and tortured in that moment, that Stiles decided enough had been enough and he let loose and arrow. Lamb let him go smoothly, weaving between his legs and watching with a bit of sorrow as his soul was ripped to shreds before being sucked downwards. She rejoined Stiles before they made their way around the room, taking the life from unmoving bodies that had been begging for release but hadn't received it. They'd been distracted.  
They finished the task efficiently, Stiles practically purring as he came back wrapped in Derek’s arms, soft growls muffled in his neck.  
Stiles turned in his arms and kissed him deep, arms looping around his neck. Derek’s hands were slick with blood, but he didn't care. They did it, they eradicated those on their list and we're currently making out covered in the actual blood of their enemies.

**Author's Note:**

> Peter, nonviolent  
> Deaton, violent  
> Scott, violent  
> Deucalion, violent  
> Twins, violent  
> Kali, violent  
> Unnamed Alphas, violent  
> Gerard, violent  
> Argent clan, violent  
> Allison, violent  
> Chris, violent  
> Jackson, violent but glossed over
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> [Come talk to me on Tumblr (:](http://SquishySterek.tumblr.com)


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